


Happy Birthday Ronnie

by britishngay



Series: Come over [9]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, Veronica is a winter bby fite me, and she invites the heathers and the 'loser squad', shenanigans ensue, so it's her bday, so... warning, there is smut in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23197006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishngay/pseuds/britishngay
Summary: It’s on a Wednesday, in the middle of lunch, when Heather accosts you.“So, Veronica, what are you going to do for your birthday?” She says, the words coming from her blood red lips, which are now curling into one of those evil smiles where she know exactly what she is doing.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer
Series: Come over [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1454131
Comments: 12
Kudos: 196





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Studying on study leave? It's less likely than you think.
> 
> So... hope that this is okay?

It’s on a Wednesday, in the middle of lunch, when Heather accosts you.

“So, Veronica, what are you going to do for your birthday?” She says, the words coming from her blood red lips, which are now curling into one of those evil smiles where she know exactly what she is doing. 

“Oh my God, why didn’t you tell us Veronica?” Mac says, looking slightly hurt at you not telling her. 

“Because I don’t like it being a big deal.”

“What are you doing for it?” Mac carries on, almost bouncing in her seat. 

“I’m having people over on Saturday? I was gonna tell you guys tomorrow, but inviting people is a bit sticky.” You say, nodding your head toward Martha and the others. You can see the Heathers all wince in varying degrees of disgust, surprisingly, Heather doesn’t wince the most, instead it’s Duke. She has a bit of guilt in her eyes, mixed with the disgust of you wanting to invite your older, and in some cases better, friends of yours. You can see her open her mouth before you interrupt her.

“I’m going to invite them if I’m having a party-thing.” You say it with finality, Mac and Duke look slightly chastised. They can see that you won’t be swayed on the matter.  
“Why don’t you have one on Friday and the other on Saturday?” Mac says, an awkward smile forming at the side of her lips.

“That’s a load of effort Heather, besides I’m busy on Friday.” You make subtle eye contact with Heather while shovelling some mac ‘n cheese into your mouth. She hides her smile by biting her lip, breaking the line of red. There’s something about mentioning it in school in front of the others which brings you a small rush about your little secret with Heather. Mac looks between the two of you and hides a smile, you don’t think much of it, Mac is always hiding smiles and giggling at random things, you take it to just be her. The bell rings, calling you to History, one of the few lessons you have without any of the Heathers. You feel kinda bad to say that you’re happy with being free from them for an hour, you’ve got that idea that if you were with them they would either try to talk you out of inviting the others or get far too excited about your birthday. 

You’ve never understood the hype over birthdays, you just don’t like the attention. Sure, it’s fun to get presents and people treating you like something special; but you don’t like the loud happy birthday singing in the cafeteria or random people coming up to you and wishing you a happy birthday. And since your sudden jump up the hierarchy of Sherwood you’re pretty sure that the random birthdays would increase exponentially from last year. You walk into the class, excited to sit next to Betty and chill. History is one of the subjects where you don’t have to try hard but aren’t incredibly invested, so overall, it’s an easy hour in your mind. You’re excited until you see that Mr Banthem is in a bad mood and it’ll be one of those lessons where if you talk you get detention and you really don’t want to spend an hour after school sitting in silence. Once he sets off on what work you have to do, you lean to Betty.

“You know the Saturday thing?” Your voice comes out in a harsh whisper. It takes a second for Betty to reply because of Banthem’s unfortunate habit of staring at you and Betty because ‘you may have good grades Ms. Finn and Ms. Sawyer but that doesn’t mean you can disrupt my class.’ He says the same thing every time, really it’s just boring at this point. When he finally turns around she leans back over.

“Yeah, me ‘n Martha are coming at around 7. JD says he’ll be a bit later, but before 8 – that good?” she whispers back, pretending to be writing something down.

Your hands start to sweat from what you’re about to say, guilt builds in your stomach.

“I’m inviting the Heathers.” You whisper, cowering slightly from the impending doom that is Betty Finn’s hatred of the Heathers.

“What?” she almost yells.

‘Miss Finn! Care to explain to the class why you are behaving in such a manner?” Banthem shouts from the front, Betty’s eyes are full of anger as they move from you to him.  
“The unfairness of the way Mary treated the Protestants, Sir.” She gets out through gritted teeth. That seems to sate him enough as he nods and turns back to his marking on the desk.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re inviting the Heather’s?” She seethes at you, gripping her pen dangerously tight.

“They’re my friends too, Betty, and I want to invite them.” She scoffs.

“Friends? They’ve ridiculed us for years!” You understand completely what she’s coming from, but you are changing them, well you’re slowly convincing Heather to be less of a dick and she’s influencing the others.

“They’ve stopped giving you shit for your haircut and they’ve stopped calling Martha ‘dumptruck’. They barely even look at you guys anymore.” You attempt to defend them, but you know any defence that involves the word ‘anymore’ doesn’t really work as a defence.

“That doesn’t undo the years of what they’ve done.”

“I know, I just wanted to give you a heads up before they show up, that’s all.”

She sighed and her drip on the pen loosens. 

“I’m not going to talk to them, you know that right?”

“Yeah, besides, I was gonna invite them for around 9 so we could hang out before they got there.”

She smiles bitterly at this and gets back to work.

“That’s better, but couldn’t you like, not invite them?”

“I want my two groups of friends to get along.” She scoffs again.

“We’re never going to get along V, but I can attempt not to shout at them.”

You know that that is the best you’re going to get from her. You fall in silence, your stomach fills with even more guilt but Betty’s eyes tell you that she’s forgiven you.

“Have you told JD yet?” Betty finally whispers, her voice is calm.

“No, but I think Martha told him.”

“Why does Martha know?”

“I asked her first, last week.” She nodded.

You’re not in the shitter by the way, I understand why you invited them. But you have to know why I’m pissed.”

“Yeah I understand.”

She nods again and you think you’ll be good.


	2. Friday

You’re waiting for your phone to ring.

Even though your arrangement has become far too casual and fun to just be sex with no feelings, the phone will always stay. You know as soon as it rings that you’re going to have a good night. You used to go just to crave the feeling of the powerful Heather Chandler underneath you, grabbing at you, begging you. Now, you still go for the physical, but you go to see her too. You go for her breathily calling you Ronnie and pulling you into hugs when you’re done. The whole thing has completely changed, but it changes so slowly that you barely notice until it’s too late. You find that you don’t mind, your feelings are becoming clear and you’re starting to actually come to terms with them.

You like Heather Chandler, romantically, or at least you think you do.

Your phone rings. Finally. It’s 11:30.

“Come over.” Her voice comes through the phone. 

“I’ll be there in a few.” You hear the click of the phone getting hung up, it’s like a rush of dopamine.

Your walk isn’t the coldest that it’s been, but it’s cold enough to wake you up after the warmth of your house. You stare at the pavement as you walk, avoiding the cracks as you go. There’s no other reason except for the fact that you just like to avoid them, it’s like a little game you can play before you get to Heather’s. Anticipation rises in your stomach as you get closer. You get into her back garden easily and take a second staring at her window. It’s open and there’s light spilling out, into the small area where you normally put your foot in to easily climb into her room. 

You climb up the drainpipe, your hands getting colder every second. It squeaks, like it always does and you slip on the small amount of frost which has gathered on the tiles. You don’t feel scared as you slip, instead you carry on climbing through her window, it’s not graceful (but it never is) but you land as quietly as possible and close the window to stop a chill from entering the room. You can’t see her anywhere.

“Heather?” you whisper, taking off your shoes.

You whip around to the sound of the bathroom door opening. And she’s there, no red robe, but black lace lingerie that contrast against her skin. She’s wearing one of her famous shades of red lipstick. Your mouth goes dry. Holy shit. She knows exactly what she’s doing to you, she’s got that annoyingly enticing evil glint in her eyes that she gets when she’s torturing someone; except it’s so much more attractive when it’s you she’s tormenting.

Is this a dream?

“You’ve dreamt about this?’ she says, an eyebrow rising sharply.

“I said that out loud?” she starts walking over, slowly, confidently. Fuck.

“You sure did. Clothes.” She nods toward your body and you cringe slightly at your slightly ratty underwear in comparison to her beautiful attire. She looks at you up and down.

“Now,” she finally reaches you she brings a hand and drifts it up your shoulder and neck until it reaches your hair and slowly pulls. The other hand rests on your hip and slowly pushes you until your knees hit the bed and you sit. You look up at her like she’s your saviour. “What to do you want Veronica?” 

“To make you feel good.” You breathe out, she closes her eyes and smiles softly. She straddles your thighs, hand not leaving you hair at all. Her thighs move across yours and they feel so soft under your palms. She hums as your hands moving gently from her thighs to either side her face. Her eyes cut into yours for a second before you draw her in and kiss her softly. Her lips are waxy against yours but they feel so good. Her perfume lingers and you breathe it in, it smells like cherries, like the trees outside one of Heather’s favourite jewellery shops. Your lips move across hers, everything is so slow, you’re savouring every moment of it. She sighs against you when you suck and bite her lip, her other hand still pulling slightly at your hair, the other one keeping her stable by wrapping around your torso. Her tongue moves against yours and, oh god, you could just stay here for hours. You feel yourself get wet at her movements. 

She pulls your head back by your hair and starts kissing down your neck, open mouthed and biting down until she reaches the juncture between your neck and shoulder, creating new marks that had only just healed from the last time you were in Heather’s bed. Her lips and teeth make heat pool at the bottom of your stomach. You remove your hand from her hair and undo her bra, taking it off and letting it fall to the floor. She kisses you again as you start to palm her breasts, hovering over her nipples but not quite touching until she’s arching into your hands and making little noises against your lips. You move down and start kissing her neck, the way that she did to you.

“Marks.” She says, her voice all throaty and hoarse.

“Huh?” You answer, barely hearing her through your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

“Leave marks, I want to wake up with what you’ve done all over my body.” 

You make a noise from the back of your throat and go in immediately, biting at her neck and pulling her hair. She moans at your actions and grips at your shoulders. This is what you love about coming over, you love making her moan and feel good, all you want is to make her feel good. You love the power, love the feeling. Your other hand grips at her breasts, pulling at her nipples. Her hips start grinding against you and yours start moving against them. Your hands move from her breasts to her ass and guide her hips against you. You feel her throat vibrate against your mouth with the moan that falls from her lips. Your finally withdraw your lips from her neck and see the red and purple bruises that start to form. You move your hands from her ass to the inside of her thighs and you feel her hips try to move toward your hand. Her desire makes the heat at the bottom of your stomach grow and everything she’s doing is making you even wetter. 

“You good baby?”

She nods and ruts her hips toward your hand again and makes that face, the face with the furrowed eyebrows and her mouth falling open slightly. You finally move your hand, to feel her over her underwear. Your hand moves easily from her wetness.

“Please Ronnie.”

“What babygirl?”

“Touch me, please, make me feel.” She whimpers, you bit your lip to contain your groan.

You use your hand to move her underwear to the side, you use of your fingers to circle her clit then bring it down, almost going in before doing the same, going further in then going back to her. She grabs your head and looks at you directly in your eyes.

“Please.”

You let two finger slide into her easily, your thumb finding her clit, she falls against you, kissing you soundly, she moans against your mouth. Your tongues meet as you slowly curl your fingers inside her. Your other arm is curled around her torso to keep her stable against you. You move everything slowly, your lips against hers, your fingers inside her; every time you curl your fingers you make it purposeful to show her how much you want her. Her hips move against your fingers, grinding slightly, you feel her movements get needier as you continue moving inside her. Her walls clench around your fingers as she moves against you more intensely, one of her hands fists your hair as the other one leaves marks across your back as she slowly pulls her fingers across your back, the kisses become sloppier and wetter. She moans loudly as she cums and falls against you even more, you carry on pumping your fingers through her orgasm, slowing down, before speeding up and letting her cum again. She stops kissing you and bites your shoulder, moaning into it. She doesn’t moan this time as she cums, her mouth falls open and she comes in a silent scream into your neck. You slowly retract your fingers, and she sighs.

“Hmm,” She moves away and pulls the hand that was inside to her mouth. You moan at the sight as she licks herself off you. As carefully as possible you move backwards until your head hits the pillow. She lies on top off you for a bit, her head resting on your chest. You run your hand through her hair, whispering sweet words of how good she is. Her legs lie either side of yours. The room smells like her cherry perfume and sweat and sex and it’s perfect. She hums and you look at her, she smiles back softly. You gently put your hands on her thighs and pull. She looks confused for a second but then desire fills her hazy eyes and she helps by moving herself up and putting her knees on either side of your face. She puts her hands on the headboard and lowers herself onto your mouth. She whimpers and her hips immediately buckle, she holds onto the headboard for balance as you slowly bring your tongue from her folds to her clit. You start liking faster, spelling out words and sentences that you can’t bring yourself to say, ‘I want this to be more than sex’, ‘I want to see you and talk without getting naked’. You suck on her clit now and again and she moans louder her hips grinding down on your face until she cums for a third time and you feel bad for making her so sensitive. She curls into your side, shuddering slightly. You kiss her forehead gently and she curls into you more, you can feel her smile against her skin.

You both lie in silence thinking, until she breaks it.

“Happy Birthday Ronnie.” She says quietly and you see that by now it has reached past 1am. 

“Thanks, this has been one hell of a present.”

“Well I’m not complaining.” She replies and it makes you smile, it is so obnoxiously Heather Chandler. You lie in silence again and it’s peaceful, you feel content. There are no thoughts blundering in your head, just a   
stillness. Until one takes over.

“Can I talk to you about something Heather?” She stills at your tone and looks at you, her eyes have become slightly steely but you can see the insecurity behind them.

“On Saturday, can you apologise to Martha?”

“What?” Her tone is sharp.

“Just apologise for what happened at the party the night that we first, you know,”

“Fucked?”

“Yes.” She stays silent for a bit, mulling over it. Her fingers draw little circles across your stomach while she's thinking, you know it's her sign that she isn't pissed at you.

“I’ll see.” Is all she says, you know, just like with Betty, that this is the best that you’re going to get. A month ago she would’ve kicked you out or sneered at you for suggesting that but you’re happy to see that she is at least considering it. 

You fall asleep happy, with your arms around someone you like, romantically.

(You think.)


	3. Saturday

You’re sweating.

Martha and Betty and JD are here and you’re having a good time. You’re chilling, seeing who you can throw popcorn into JD’s mouth from the furthest point across the room, you’re currently winning. But you’re sweating. Betty is looking around your kitchen for drinks while Martha cheers you on from the sofa, it’s all good, no one is too stressed, there’s casual drinking – except for Martha, who doesn’t like drinking at all. Every few minutes you forget that your three friends’ greatest enemies will be coming to your house soon. But then you remember and you sweat.

“How am I supposed to interact with them V?” JD says through a mouth of popcorn. “It’s gonna be hard not to, ya know, punch them in the face.” 

“My thoughts exactly!” Betty agrees from her place in the fridge. “And how come all you’ve got is beer?”

“You act like you don’t want to hurt them and my parents are cool but they’re not that cool.”

Betty deflates slightly at that.

“Are you sad about not hurting them or the beer?”

“Both.”

“I agree with that statement.” JD says, finally swallowing all the popcorn that you threw a second ago. She opens a beer anyway.

Just as she is about to open her mouth the doorbell rings. Everyone looks at each other. Yup, you’re sweating. You go to open the door and find the three Heathers in their normal colourful attire. Heather holds up her hand to show you a bottle of vodka as she quirks her eyebrow as if she hadn’t sat on your face around 12 hours earlier.

“Happy Birthday, here’s booze.” You can smell her cherry perfume as she struts past you. It reminds you of last night. Duke just walks in, acknowledging you with a nod but carries on walking apart from that and Mac gives you a large hug, practically squealing happy birthday.

“Thanks Mac,” she hands you an opaque bag which clinks once it’s handed over. You look inside to find two bottles of wine and one bottle of gin, the Heather’s sure know what to bring to a party. You walk through to the kitchen to find Heather and Betty locked in intense eye contact, JD behind her looking ready to back her up while Duke is checking her nails and Martha looks like she wishes the floor would swallow her up.

“Everything okay?” you say.

They both give nod.

Your kitchen suddenly becomes very tense and you’re starting to regret your choice of inviting everyone over.

“Is that vodka?” Betty says and you let out a breath from Betty’s attempt at offering an olive branch. Heather waits a second before handing it over, Betty takes it and has a swig without breaking eye contact with the other woman. Even though there is an informal peace reached, both parties go their separate ways, the Heathers stay near the kitchen while Betty and JD move to sit next to Martha on the sofa. 

It stays like that for around half an hour, everyone milling about in their own ways. The Heathers talk to each other lowly, drinking some of the vodka that Heather brought. JD, Betty and Martha are sitting on your sofa, the first two have beers while Martha happily drinks her sparkling cider. You can see JD animatedly waving his arms about, telling some story about the 7/11 while Martha listens intently and Betty is trying not to laugh. After twenty minutes or so, the group dies down and there’s an awkward silence. You just sit at the side-lines drinking some of the gin that Mac brought you, imagining what a nature documentary would say about the situation. Eventually Betty gets bored of the tension and walks over to the kitchen.

“Yo V? Where are your glasses?” Betty shouts from the kitchen as if she hasn’t been to your house a million times and has forgotten where your glasses are a million times, you roll your eyes and wonder over there, showing her where they are for the millionth time. “I wanna play beer pong with an almighty.” She says, jerking her head towards the Heathers, who are standing in a clump by the island. You gather a few glasses and a table tennis ball which Betty seemingly materialised from nowhere.

“What’re we playing?” Heather asks, seeing the glasses set up.

“Beer pong.” Betty answers, focusing on pouring the beer into the glasses. Heather wrinkles her nose.

“Not my scene,” she drawls. “Duke, your game’s being played.” Duke turns around and smiles slyly at the table, her eyebrow cocking. You can tell that she’s confident in her abilities in beating Betty, but Betty has got a quick hand that doesn’t get worse after downing a couple of beers. Mac bounces over to where you guys will be playing and cheerily offers to be on Duke’s team, which only furthers her smirk while she looks at Betty. You can see Heather standing uncomfortably next to where Martha is sitting. She’s got her arms crossed and is staring at her feet, you can tell that she’s trying her best to apologise, she’s failing, but she’s trying. Martha looks confused while she’s staring at her but you can see her nod her head and say something that looks like a ‘thank you’, but you can’t be sure. You know that it won’t take back the years of torment, but you have to start somewhere and you’re glad that Heather has taken the step in the right direction.

“You playing?” Betty asks, bringing you back to the game instead of staring at Heather from across the room. It's hard though, she's wearing one of those skirts that she knows drive you crazy.

“Uh, imma sit this one out” you say, because you really don’t want to chug any beer right now. “JD, pong?” He turns around and comes over immediately, his grin getting bigger by the second, you stay to watch. Betty smiles and lines up the first shot of the game. She throws it, it bounces off one cup and lands in the other, Mac daintily picks up the glass and drinks the whole thing in under 10 seconds flat. Betty looks impressed while Duke lines up her go. Martha comes over to watch the game, still slightly confused about her interaction with Heather, but is happy to watch the game take place. You walk over to where Heather is now leaning against the sofa.

“You okay?” you ask, keeping your voice low, you know that she wouldn’t want any attention from this. Luckily, Betty and Duke are apparently the perfect match for each other in beer pong. That it, they both shout at each other a ridiculous amount.

“Yeah, I apologised. I don’t know how well it went.” She replies, staring at the stone of the island, her fingers tracing a line. “I can’t believe you made me apologise to Dunnstock.”   
“Well, thank you for apologising. Or at least attempting to.“ She shrugs, making her blazer crinkle in the shoulders.

“Heather I’m not going to lie, you guys have done some real shitty things.” Her head shoots up and her eyes meet yours, for once you can’t tell what she’s feeling. “But, I can see you are, slowly, doing slightly less shitty things. Not that much less shitty but, you know.” You squeeze her hand.

“V?” JD shouts from the game. Goddammit, you wanted to talk with her more.

“Yeah?”

“Can you sit in for me? I regret playing with these hooligans.” You look at Heather and she nods her head to go.

“Glad you’re back, now let’s beat some traffic lights.” Betty says, Mac gasps and Duke, as she normally does, rolls her eyes.

You look up to see Heather and JD in a serious conversation, her eyebrows furrowed and his back being as stiff as a piece of wood. Oh, god, that’s a recipe for disaster, between Heather’s inability to say anything right in most circumstances and JD’s tendency to go off the rails, it’s a wonder they weren’t immediately fighting. 

“V, it’s your go.” You didn’t even notice that Duke had finished her go, she’d missed, judging by the glasses on the island and Betty’s smug face. She pulls your shirt to pull you back to the game, revealing the mark left by Heather’s teeth in the junction between your shoulder and neck. It was the one place you didn’t put concealer and you were so stressed out about everyone being in the same room that you didn’t even think that this would happen. Betty whistles at the mark. Everything feels like it's in slow motion.

“Damn Veronica who are you fucking?”

“It’s from a curling iron.” You say on instinct, it’s what you say to your parents or the Heathers when there’s a mark behind your ear or higher up on your neck, but you know that this is a lost cause from Betty’s wolfish grin.

“Your hair isn’t curled.” She says almost triumphantly, the gin must’ve gone to your head because you can’t help it, your eyes flick over to where JD and Heather are talking. 

“You’re fucking JD?” she almost yells. JD and Heather’s heads both whip around, JD’s face full of confusion while Heather looks terrified.

“I’m not fucking anyone.” You try to explain. Mac looks over at Heather before looking at you. You’re eyes lock onto each other. She knows? How does she know? Did Heather tell her? Has she told anyone else?

“That’s one hell of a fuck mark.” Duke says, eyeing the spot at the bottom of your neck.

“Martha, do you want to watch the Princess Bride?” Mac suddenly says and that cements your fear. Poor Martha, she’s been confused all evening with all of the Heathers talking to her. Everyone looks at her baffled.

“I always want to but-“

“Martha, you know where the tape is,”

“Hold up! Are you fucking someone that bad that we can’t know?” Betty interjects, her tone isn’t mean, it’s playful and her smile has jerked into the one that goes up one side of her face – which means that she will tease you relentlessly.

“They’re not bad, well I mean they might be a bit morally fucked but they aren’t bad in, like, bed and stuff you know?”

“Yeah we can tell that by the mark on your neck.” JD inputs from across the room. “I can see it from here.”

“Guys, please, I don’t want to talk about this. Let’s grab some popcorn, finish these beers and watch the Princess Bride. Okay?”

“Yeah, but we’re interrogating you at some point, and I call the brown sofa,” Betty says, grabbing two beers and heading toward the sofa, where JD has already sat down, ready to accept his beer. Heather still seems in a bit of shock about how close they were while going toward the other sofa, Mac seems happy at the prospect of watching a movie but seems worried about Heather and Duke looks like she wished that she could finish the game and beat Betty. Martha puts the tape in and soon you hear the tell-tale sounds of a child coughing. 

You look at Heather to find her looking directly at you. 

You can't tell what she’s feeling.


	4. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saint Martha incoming.
> 
> Also I have mixed feelings about this chapter, I hope it's okay and not to stupid/ooc for the characters

The next few hours were the weirdest of your life, everyone actually loved watching the movie and you snorted a couple of times at Heather’s dry wit – and you won’t tell anyone but you saw Betty crack a few smiles. 

But can’t help but be happy when the movie ends and everyone leaves, apart from Martha, who is staying over. She gushes about the movie while you tidy up, you can’t help but smile at Martha, sweet, kind wonderful Martha. It’s when you’re in your room when you can see she wants to ask you something. You’re both in pyjamas, meaning that you’re in a jumper and boy-shorts while she’s got a two piece plaid set. You’ve been avoiding the most obvious topic of conversation for at least two hours until it’s past midnight and she finally breaks.

“So you’re, doing things with someone?” she asks, gesturing towards your shoulder.

“I told you guys I’m not-“she silences you with that all knowing Martha look. “Yes I am.”

“Does he treat you right? You said he’s sometimes not morally right?”

You stay silent not knowing how to answer. You know that she wouldn’t judge you for sleeping with a woman, Martha has expressed hate over the past years for her hatred of Reagan and his treatment of the AIDs crisis and how she wishes someone with actual heart was in the White House, it’s the closest you had ever seen Martha to losing it. You just feared her finding out it’s Heather, Martha’s not stupid and she’s definitely not emotionally stupid. Even though she won’t judge you for sleeping with a woman, your neck still heats up and your mouth goes dry, you can’t help but knit your hands together as you tell her:

“It’s not a boy.”

“Oh.”

It’s silent for a moment and you don’t know what to think because your head is moving too goddamn fast. Will Martha still want to be friends with you? What if she tells everyone? You don’t know if the Heathers will defend you, Mac probably would but you don’t know about Heather, would she leave you behind?

“Veronica, it’s okay. I don’t care that you’re sleeping with woman.”

All the air rushes out of you, you had no issues with your sexuality, you’ve been attracted to men and women, but the acceptance still makes you feel like everything is okay, you feel tears suddenly rush to you and, god, you are not a crier. It’s not just acceptance but everything, all of the feelings and confusion and everything that you bury so deep in your stomach. You can’t help it, you give Martha the biggest hug you can manage, holding back your tears because Veronica Sawyer will not cry. Her arms are reassuring around you and it’s just what you need. 

You pull away after a while and feel infinitely better. She’s looking at you with such worry that it hurts because you are acting so unlike how you normally do, but this isn’t a normal situation.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how I’m meant to feel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I like her, you know, romantically, but I shouldn’t-“she looks like she’s about to interject. “not because of some internal issues Martha, but because it’s meant to be sex, nothing more, just touching no feelings. But she’s become so different Martha, I want to hold her hand when we go through the hallways, I want to kiss her on the cheek before classes but I can’t. She’s also hurt the people I love and liking her means that in some fucked up way I condone it? Ugh.”

“You’re sleeping with Heather Chandler?” You were so ready to tell Martha everything, you forgot what everything meant, and everything means that your best friend finds out that you’re sleeping with, and possibly falling in love with, her worst enemy. Her voice is slightly hurt and her eyes make you ache.

“Yes.” That one syllable almost pains you to say.

“Okay.” She’s staring into the wall on the opposite side of your bedroom, her eyes calculating how to feel and what to say.

“That’s all? Okay? Martha what’s going on in your head?”

“She apologised. For the party. And for the pain she caused me. And it didn’t sound forced. I told her that I’ll consider forgiving her.” Her voice sounds as if everything is becoming clear.

“Martha you don’t have to forgive her.”

“People grow and change Veronica, if we don’t allow them to then they’ll stay the same.”

“Still Martha, you don’t have to.”

“I’m still thinking about it.” She doesn’t seem regretful, and she’s looking at you like with that look where she’s wiser than anyone you’ve ever met.

“You’re sleeping with the girl who has caused me hell for years.”

“Yes.”

“And you think you’re falling for her?”

“Yes.” You stomach twists with guilt, you never thought you could feel guilt like this, you can’t believe you even told her, you really shouldn’t have. You’re going to lose your greatest friend, you’re going to lose the one person who would stay with you through anything.

“Oh honey, your head must be going through the ringer.”

“Not as much as your heart must be right now.”

“The heart is the strongest muscle, Veronica, and I was thinking of forgiving her before I knew about your, affair. Also it seems that you most definitely like her romantically, you   
don’t get those kind of reactions without liking someone a little bit.”

“But she’s hurt you so much-“

“Veronica. You like her. And I think she likes you too.”

“Huh?”

“She looked terrified when Betty shouted at JD, you don’t get that scared if you don’t care a little, but she’s also scared, she clearly doesn’t understand or want to understand what she’s feeling.” 

“So what should I do?”

“Call her, tell her that you need to talk.”

“Martha?”

“Yeah V?”

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed xx
> 
> Comment are legendary but you don't need to leave one if you don't want to lol


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